Say Fake and Smile

He was flying.

The wind was whipping at his face and burning his eyes, and though the sensation should be an unpleasant one, it wasn't. His grin grew as he shifted his weight and pushed down on the handle of the broom, sending it in a downward spiral, his glasses pressing against the bridge of his nose.

He closed his eyes and let himself fall, loosening his grip on the broom handle until he could hear the chatter of thestrals. He could just make out the ground beneath him, and he laughed, raising his arms above his head. He was almost there. Almost there...

"Harry?"

The wind carried his name to him, pushing his broom this way and that, slowing him. He let out a low groan, grabbing onto the broom handle as it rocked back and forth, the wind threatening to snap the handle in half. He heard his name again, softer this time, and felt something pulling back on his shoulders. Invisible hands pushed onto him, guiding his broom to a level glide. He groaned, pushing down on his handle, trying to make it drop downward. His hair whipping at his face, he struggled down once again. He only stopped when an invisible hand grabbed sharply onto his shoulder, startling him to wake.

A pair of blue eyes stared back at him when his eyes opened, and he pushed back.

"Wh-wha'sgoin' on?" he slurred, the sound of the thestrals embracing him.

Ron pulled back, grinning, "We're almost there, Mate. You fell asleep..."

He blinked, pushing his glasses to his face and mumbling almost incoherently, "Where?"

"Oh, for goodness sakes, Harry!" Hermione sighed from beside him, giving him a disapproving glare from her book, "How much sleep have you been getting?"

Sitting up in his seat, and removing his glasses to rub his eyes he said, "Enough."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow, "And what, in your opinion, is enough?"

He shrugged, pushing his glasses back onto his face, "Enough."

She rolled her eyes, burying her face in her book once again, light coming from within the pages and lighting her face.

Harry sighed, turning to the carriage window, the scenery of Hogwarts passing by in a black-green blur. He turned his eyes to the night sky, frowning as he remembered his dream. He had been having it a lot, lately, and that had been the closest he had come to hitting. Briefly, he wondered if the Muggle saying about dying in your dream was really true. He yawned, scratching his stomach. A low buzz in the back of his mind signalled that Ron and Hermione were talking softly to each other.

The blur of scenery slowed until he could make out a few objects; the dark figure of the Whomping Willow in the distance, the smoke-trail of Hagrid's Hut in the sky, just below the moon. They were almost at the castle. If he craned his neck to the side, just a bit, he could make out the dark form of Hogwarts, illuminated by what seemed a thousand of lights. The lights gleamed in the darkness, almost as if they weren't lit at all, but instead the Castle's eyes that were reflecting the moon. He shuddered, and turned, bowing his head until the carriages came to a soft jerking stop.

He looked up, glancing at his two friends. Hermione pulled her wand from her robes and pointed it at her book, mumbling something under her breath. The tip of her wand glowed, a silver vapour reaching from it and shrinking the object. She tucked both of the items away in her robes, Ron and her standing simultaneously. Harry gradually stood, stretching slightly, his hands grazing the roof of the carriage as he raised his arms.

The carriage jolted as the door magically opened and Ron and Hermione clambered out, standing off to the side of the door as Harry himself stepped out of the carriage. Standing still, Harry fixed his gaze on the castle. In the distance, he could hear Hagrid calling for the first years. The castle looked down at him, appearing to frown. Within the chatter of the students, and Hagrid's bellowing yell, Harry could make out a soft and whispery voice, somehow louder then the others.

The words were slurred together, sending shivers down his spine, "Heeseakstwokealyue..."

Echoing, the word seemed to embrace him, repeating a thousand times over in his mind. With each time it repeated, his vision began to darken, the castle becoming more and more malevolent. His breathing hitched and he found it hard to breath, as if the air had been removed from where he was standing. Squinting his eyes at the castle, he shook his head, grabbing onto the frame of the carriage's door to balance himself.

Hermione looked at Ron with dismay, frowning and turning back to Harry, softly saying, "Harry?"

Harry shook his head again, the darkness loosening it's hold on his vision, and turned to Hermione stuttering, "Wh--what?"

Narrowing her eyes at him thoughtfully, Hermione said, "Are you alright?"

He let go of the carriage, stepping forward and shrugging, "Yeah. We...should be going in now."

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly at Harry but then sharing a glance with Ron as Harry began his way towards the castle. Hesitantly, the two followed behind him.

Looking at the ground, Harry was in a steadfast walk towards the castle.

Ron called out from behind him, "You going to try out for Quidditch again, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, "Yeah. Maybe."

Ron looked at the back of his head in disbelief, "Maybe?"

"Maybe," he said again.

"Wh--" Ron was silenced with a sharp jab in the ribs from Hermione.

Giving her an exasperated look, Ron continued walking.

Harry buried his hands in his robes, a shiver running down his back as a gust of cool wind brushed his face. He glanced back at his friends, smiling slightly at them before turning back to the castle. The three of them treaded up to the castle with the rest of the incoming students, the warm sound of chatter surrounding Harry. His mood improving, he slowed a bit, stepping back with his friends.

Taking a deep breath of air, Harry looked at Ron and said, "So, going out for Quidditch again this year?"

Ron looked at him surprised, a grin consuming his features, "I was thinking about it, yeah."

"What position?"

"Keeper," Ron said grinning, "I think I improved some over the summer. Ginny helped me."

Harry lifted an eyebrow, looking at him and saying, "She still aiming for seeker?"

"Yep."

He grinned, "Hope she doesn't mind some competition if they let me back on the team."

"They better," Ron said heatedly, looking at Harry, "You deserve the spot! You're the best we have!"

Somewhat sheepishly, Ron added, "No offence to Ginny..."

Harry chuckled, glancing over Ron and at Hermione, who was watching the two with a small smile. Harry smiled back, climbing up the stairs to the castle. A strong gust of wind pressed against his skin as they entered the castle, one last breeze playing with their robes before being hurried into the Great Hall by several professors.

The Great Hall looked as magnificent as ever, the ceiling showing off a clear, starry, autumn night. Candles floated around the tables, providing light, and golden-coloured dishes adorned the tables. Banners of each house floated proudly by the side of their table, and students hurried over to the tables, looking for spots where both their friends and they could sit together. Ron, Hermione and Harry chose an area of the table closer to the biggest table in the room, where the many professors sat. Pulling his chair out, Harry sat down, Ron taking the place in front of him and Hermione beside that. Ginny hurried to the spot closest to him, giving him a small smile as she sat down.

"How was your summer, Harry?"

"Alright," he said, "And yours?"

"Pretty good."

Harry looked at her over his goblet and said, "That's good."

Ginny smiled, glancing up at the head table as a small ringing noise sounded throughout the room. Harry turned, looking up to the table as an elderly man with a great white beard stood. The Headmaster smiled down at the students, placing his spoon where it belonged. His eyes scanned the room and a small smile played on his face, though hidden by his beard, "Welcome, welcome, welcome."

His voice boomed over the room, silencing what ever chatter that was still going on, "I am pleased to see so many shining faces looking back up at me. I was…unsure of how many of you would be returning this year," Dumbledore's eyes scanned the Slytherin Table, "But for once, I am pleased to be surprised. Now, while there are some... pressing, matters to attend to, I believe we have some new students."

With a wave of his hand the doors at the end of the Great Hall swung open, locking in place, revealing a sheepish group of first years. At the start of the group stood an erect Professor McGonagall, holding in her arms a wooden stool, an old battered Sorting Hat sitting semi-proudly on top. Harry's eyes darted back to the Headmaster who gave the professor a soft nod before sitting down. His eyes moved back to the entrance way, where the group of first years scrambled into the room, led by the professor. Necks were bent this way and that as they hurried to take in their surroundings.

The greying professor stopped, the students following suit. Slowly, she stepped in front of the head table, placing the stool on the floor. Stepping beside it, the Sorting Hat shook, opening its flap of a mouth.

Harry grinned across the table at Ron, Hermione shushing the two as the sorting hat began its song.

"I have spoken of the present,
I have spoken of the past,
And now I intend to speak of
What's to come, not now, not last.
Together all have worried,
About the common threat,
Yet none act on standing strong;
Which all shall regret.
The blood of The Founders
Is worthy and strong,
But our thoughts, our choices
Choose where we belong.
So cast away the misconceptions,
Those programmed beliefs,
And lend a helping hand
To those carrying griefs..."

The Sorting Hat's song wavered, getting softer then louder and vice versa. Harry knitted his eyebrows, staring at it for a long while, it's words echoing, shifting into something else. He squinted his eyes at the hat in confusion, straining to hear the words it was singing.

"Taykewaythbluduffthsebeeforus...
Adarkendreeryklouduffgraaye..."

Looking at his friends in wonder, Harry shook his head gently. Ron and Hermione looked at the hat as they always did; Hermione in understanding and Ron in utter boredom. Neither seemed to notice the change in the words. Harry's eyes scanned the Great Hall, surprised to see that everyone's demeanour was the same as it had been before. What ever the Sorting Hat was trying to say, repeated in his mind as one jumbled, long, slurred word.

"Adarkendreeryklouduffgraaye..."

Shaking his head again, Harry turned his eyes to his goblet and the way the light of the candles caught the edge and caused it to glint a bright gold colour. The words in his mind grew stronger, less confusing.

"Adarkandreerykloudoffgraaye..."

Harry swallowed, closing his eyes and concentrating.

"Adarkandrearycloudofgrey...
A dark and dreary cloud of grey
Above the castle shall forever stay..."

The words echoed one and another, but the sentences as wholes were much easier for Harry to understand. The Sorting Hat recited what it wanted him to hear with much more ease, almost as if it were talking into his mind. Unknowingly, Harry softly lipped the words as they formed in his mind.

"A dark and dreary cloud of grey
Above the castle shall forever stay
Unless you face the life of pain
Until you suffer and play the game.
It sits so gently upon your head
And makes a person neither alive or dead
Remove the eye and keep the rest
Look out, take heed, and do your best.
Not you, nor me, but rather him
Be careful now, he lives a sin
Don’t be afraid to follow through
For only one will really do.
The lake outside is like a sea
But more and more you hear the plea
Of freedom wanted, freedom needed,
It reeks, remove the are he pleaded.
I’m not on my own, yet double one
But this way I can have more fun
For solitary I’m alone
Now me, and another do I own.
Never believe everything is okay
Remove the o and what do I say?
Turn your head slower, carefully still
Remove the ess, I’m on the sill.
I’m not me, for I am who?
Don’t be afraid, it’s only an ewe
A shattering sound it was before
My word is now one less than four.
From a dog, I have but four
As I pad towards the door
Another word for thank you now
DonÂ’t fret for we don’t know how... "

When the echoes vanished, Harry's eyes snapped open almost automatically and he looked up. Ron and Hermione were giving him weird stares, and upon looking across The Great Hall, he found that it was shared by most everyone there, except a few Slytherins that were snickering discretely to themselves.